The Last of the Perdidians
by macrauchenia
Summary: "Quinn was about to say something when an arrow whizzed past the boys and embedded itself in a large pine behind them." Our favorite Honduran has perhaps the most traumatizing hunting trip ever imagined. Just for Thanksgiving - Sequel to 'The Chupacabra'


**Hey Y'all! This is my _second_(yeah, I'm shocked too) published story on here so there still is a chance it's a fail. All you brilliant reviewers from my last one made my head swell! I went up three hat sizes! D: Anyway, as I was saying, I was completely floored by the number of reviews I got. Y'know, little ole me was only expecting a grand total of 0. I've just now figured out _how_to reply to reviews so expect my many thanks soon :) And it's not like you guys are really reading this colossal Author's Note so without further ado, I'll shut up and start.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Gone series, any characters created by Michael Grant _nor_the chemicals used to make the fire change color. But I do own the word 'Degarobia' :] Heh. Heh. Heh.  
****  
This is what you get when you cross the Constitutional Convention, a chemistry lab, and random rambling. It's a sequel to '_The Chupacabra'_but you don't need to read the first one to understand this one. This is Quinn's revenge on Edilio. Oh, and by the way, it's just for Thanksgiving.  
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* * *

Edilio Escobar, former 'Potentially interesting Mexican' now sheriff of Perdido Beach, grumbled and rubbed his arms as he paused in front of a particularly forlorn national forest. "_This_ is where Sam wanted us whatever he wanted?"

Quinn glanced over at his comrade with barely concealed distaste. Since the entire 'Chupacabra' incident, he had been the laughingstock of Perdido Beach. The head fisher had to struggle to gain the respect of his workers again. Behind his back, the boy could hear people snickering and trying to howl. Perhaps the worst was the 'Mark of the Chupacabra'. People stared wearing two drops of red paint on their necks and whenever Quinn would pass, they would hold out their fingers in a way similar to what Edilio did. To make things even more terrible, it was his _loyal_ crew who participated in these activities the most. It was only a few days before Thanksgiving and people _still_had nothing better to do than mock Quinn. The boy mentally shook his head and swore he would get revenge on Edilio somehow. He put both hands on his hips, took a deep breath, and smiled darkly. "No," he told Edilio. Edilio didn't look concerned but he looked slightly frustrated.

"Then why are we all the way out here? In the middle of nowhere?" he swept his arms around himself. The two where at the edge of Stefano Rey National Park, just a few hundred feet from the highway. The hot noon sun beat down on the boy and caused sweat to trickle down the back of his neck and across his forehead. He shifted uncomfortably and wiped away the moisture on his forehead with the back of his hand. Quinn advised Edilio to dress warmly and be covered enough so they could travel easily in a thick forest. His partner had neglected to say that it would be well over 80 degrees on that late November day and the 'thick' forest there were about to trek through had a neat dirt path that was both clean and cleared. Edilio had arrived with bulky wool sweatpants, his usual heavy-duty work boots, and an over-sized hoodie.

Quinn on the other hand looked very comfortable. He was decked out in a typical fisherman's outfit: T-shirt, shorts, and a hat. The hat of the day today was something that slightly reminded Edilio of the Pilgrims; something they learned in school about a few weeks before the FAYZ wall came down. It was black and tall and had a rather shiny buckle attached to its front. Quinn pushed his shaggy mop of hair underneath the hat and smirked at Edilio.

The sheriff of Perdido Beach crossed his arms and stared uninterestedly at Quinn. Unlike most people, the fisher had a huge, messy mane of semi-greasy hair on top of his head. The general hair length in the FAYZ for guys was an inch so to cut down on the amount of soap and water needed to wash it. Edilio himself had hair that was just a few centimeters from being nonexistent. "Scared to go near scissors now? My, my, don't you know by now that there's no such thing as a Chupacabra? Are you _still_having nightmares?" Edilio decided to vent his annoyance at Quinn—who often was the cause of most of his anger.

Quinn stared flatly at the Honduran. "No, I'm not scared of scissors _or_Chupacabras. But what's with you and the gear? Ready to go to Alaska? Don't you know by now that we live in _southern_ California? I thought it was really hot down in Mexico too."

"Yeah, well I don't get the Weather Channel at my house," Edilio snapped sarcastically back. Quinn's smirk grew at the exasperated expression on he boy's face. The two stood in a strained silence for another moment before Edilio broke it. "So… Why did Sam send us out here again?" Quinn was delighted to see the Honduran wipe away more sweat from his brow.

The fisherman stared to make his way towards the path. "I don't know if your people celebrated Thanksgiving, but we do here." Edilio bristled slightly. "Sam wanted me to get something for the Thanksgiving table and he said I could recruit someone."

"Lucky me," Edilio grumbled, rolling his eyes. He started to follow Quinn down the path then stopped. "Wait a minute. Why are we out here in a national forest, looking for game? Isn't that kinda illegal? Why didn't we just stick to the forest closer to town? There are plenty of creatures there."

Quinn blinked at him. "Probably was illegal. But there's no more rules in the FAYZ, remember? And just to let you know, there are not as many big animals left anymore in that part of the woods. Hunter has gotten most of the deer and other mutant-y things." Quinn made a face. When it came to eating, he preferred to consume things that actually were in the dictionary before the FAYZ wall came down. "Besides, I was here a few days ago and I saw large bird tracks. Even found a feather that looked kinda turkey-ish. It'd be nice to get the people of Perdido Beach a real turkey for Thanksgiving this year, since, you know, it's the first anniversary to the battle and the Fall of the Wall."

Edilio nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess. But I still don't see why we had to come out all the way out here."

Quinn shrugged and smiled maliciously again at the Honduran. "Because Sam said I get to do what I want with you after that Halloween prank and I say we go turkey hunting." He turned back towards the trail and kept moving along.

Edilio sighed gustily and slipped off his heavy sweatshirt. The sun was beating mercilessly on him and he was grateful to enter the much cooler forest. Dropping his hoodie on the ground behind him, the sheriff followed the fisher into the forest. He had to remind himself a few times that Quinn's expression on Halloween night was worth going on this wild goose hunt. _Rather a wild turkey hunt, _the Honduran noted with a smirk.

They had only walked a few minutes when Quinn stopped abruptly. Edilio barely missed colliding into the back of him. "What is it?" he hissed, feeling very annoyed and very hot.

Quinn slowly held up a hand. "Do you hear something?" he whispered. The boy's eyes darted from side to side nervously.

Edilio paused and listened for a moment. He couldn't hear anything. The boy smirked at Quinn. "You must've been spooked more than I thought that night."

"Hmm, well, I thought I heard something." Quinn said in a flat voice. He ignored Edilio's other comment. The fisher glanced around and nodded to himself. "We're here."

"Where's here?" Edilio asked suspiciously. "Where you saw the turkey tracks?" He noticed the path they were on suddenly ended a few feet in front of him and led to the source of a rather pathetic looking stream.

Quinn crashed through an already marked trail. "Nooo…where we get the boats."

"Boats?" Edilio followed after him, a look of dismay on his face. He wasn't the biggest fan of boats.

"Yeah, I brought them up a few days ago. There's no trail so it's easier to travel by the river."

The sheriff threw a baleful glance at the quiet stream they were following. "_This_ is a river?"

"I know you're used to crossing bigger things like the Rio Grande, but this still is considered a river. The Achatz River to be exact."

Edilio bristled slightly again. "I did not swim across the Rio Grande River to get here," he sniffed, clearly offended.

"Whatever." Quinn took another quick turn and strayed a bit from the river before winding back towards it. The Honduran noted that the river already seemed more river-like and now had a medium current. They were now on the home stretch to the place where the boats were docked. "Almost there," Quinn added loudly. Soon they made it to where they would continue by water.

Edilio tripped to a stop and stared at their mode of transportation with a slack mouth. He was hoping at first for their boat to be motorized but still being able to see the murky bottom told the boy it would be too shallow for a typical fishing boat. He was not boating expert but the sheriff knew which boats would and would not work. Like a cruise ship would not fit down the Achatz River but a paddle boat might. Edilio internally groaned. Anything would be better than a little two-seater, elbow grease powered dinghy.

But it turned out the Honduran was wrong. What were sitting before he and Quinn were two identical canoes, painted some awful forest color. _Canoes_. With matching sets of paddles, no less. They looked like they came out of a bad catalog of _Travel America_where some happy couple would be canoeing up a green screen river.

"Where did you get those barely afloat pieces of dyed plastic?" Edilio balked at the idea of going down the river in those two tourist traps.

Quinn looked hurt at Edilio's names for them. "I like them, thank you very much." He had already slid one into the water and was preparing to jump into it. The boy sat comfortably in his canoe and stared at Edilio expectantly. "Well? Are you getting in?"

Edilio groaned loudly and dragged the other canoe to the edge. It was heavier than he expected and it wasn't until he got to the water did he realize several bags of stones were sitting in the bottom of the boat. 'To keep it from blowing away' Quinn had explained. Edilio glared at him and shoveled the rocks out. What wind in the middle of a forest could blow away a hundred pound canoe? _No, the rocks were to make my life more miserable_. Eventually the Honduran was able to vertically position himself in the sloshing canoe and managed to figure out how to steer. But not before he noticed a hardly visible crack was causing cold water to leak through and conveniently pool around his boots. Quinn smirked knowingly at him before paddling away. Cursing Quinn and various members of his family, Edilio slowly followed him down the Achatz River.

They had been paddling for about fifteen minutes when Quinn stopped again. Edilio was currently occupied with yet another problem with his boat—something was weighted wrongly which resulted in the left side of the boat to always dip dangerously into the water—and nearly crashed into Quinn again.

"_What!_" He demanded. Edilio had just about had enough of this entire adventure with Quinn.

The fisher held up a finger to his lips and shushed Edilio. "I hear something," he whispered.

Edilio rolled his eyes. "There is nothing there!" he hissed loudly.

Quinn was about to say something when an arrow whizzed past the boys and embedded itself into a large pine behind them. Savage war cries echoed around them and caused Edilio to jump. Painted and contorted faces peered at the two with inhuman expressions.

"_Dios Mio!"_whispered the Honduran under his breath. He glanced around at the approaching warriors. More arrows flew by and one hit right in the middle of Edilio's raised paddle. "Who are these people, Quinn?"

The fisher was impossibly still. "I think they were from some place like where Orsay came from. And I guess the FAYZ turned them wild." He whispered back.

"Y'think?" Edilio snapped back, feeling worry well up in his chest. He fumbled around his pockets, searching for the comforting presence of his gun. He almost cursed aloud when he realized it had been in his hoodie…back at the edge of the forest.

"Don't move!" Quinn hissed sternly. He turned to face the bulk of their attackers and raised his palms in a peaceful gesture. "We come in peace," he tried to say as soothingly as possible. The assumed leader of the wild tribe raised a bow and shouted something in a foreign language. The rest of his people chattered incoherently and they too waved their various weapons in the air, ranging from axes to bows to large branches. Quinn and Edilio exchanged worried glances.

"What should we do?" the sheriff asked the fisher. He felt completely exposed without his gun or the chance that help would come by any moment. The boy darted his gaze back and forth between the archers. One false move could tip them off and then the Honduran could kiss his butt goodbye. Just thinking about his bottom caused him to realize how sore he was from sitting and being completely scrunched up in the tiny canoe. Painstakingly slow, Edilio shifted his weight in the boat and prayed that no one noticed.

_Zirp!_ An arrow bit into the canoes just a few inches away from his hand. The Honduran gulped quickly and adrenaline caused him to duck his head as fast as possible. His sudden movements caused his boat to pitch precariously and more arrows to whiz over his head.

"Edilio! Are you okay?" Edilio could hear Quinn hissing. "Don't you ever try that again or we're _both_ dead!"

"Sorry," mumbled the still hunched boy. He struggled to control his pounding heart.

The chief of the wild tribe was looking slightly bemused the entire time. When everything settled down again, a narrow look passed across his face. "Geiga day gu Degarobia!" he shouted again. "Smirglip few Degarobia!"

"Degarobia!" answered the rest of the group with loud cheers. Soon the single word became a forceful song. Their gleeful chant sent shivers running up and down Edilio's spine. Edilio slowly straightened up and was thankful the savages were too into their war chant to notice him moving. He knew that if they had, he'd be a tasty Honduran Shish kabob. Beside him, he could feel Quinn tense up and prepare to do something rash.

"Don't do it, man," Edilio warned under his breath.

"They're gunna kill us if we don't do something." Quinn said in a crazed voice. "They won't hurt us if we take the chief hostage. They wouldn't _dare_hurt us," he rattled on. Edilio looked over at the fisher and noticed the whites in the boy's eyes were plainly visible. He was about to warn Quinn again when the boy suddenly jumped up in his boat and lunged towards the chief. Loud cries erupted from the natives of the forest. Arrows flew and one hit Quinn right in the left side of his chest. The boy's mouth gaped for a moment before he tumbled into the water.

"Quinn!" Edilio screamed and tried to see where the fisherman had fallen. His floundering in the already unstable boat caused it to tip and threw him from it. The water was deeper than he anticipated and he fought to keep afloat. Water swirled around him and it was a struggle to see where he was. When he finally got his bearings, the boy weakly paddled towards the bank and crawled onto the shore. Edilio took deep gasps of air and found himself surrounded by angry savages on all sides. They prodded him to his feet with rough jabs and made crude motions for him to follow. Edilio cast one last long look at the two forlorn canoes before trailing gloomily after them.

It took a while but soon the group of natives and a terrified Edilio reached what could be considered their village. Broken and tattered structures that looked vaguely of _teepees_were in a clustered circle around a rather large fire pit. Two particularly large 'Indians' ran past while screaming "Degarobia" and carrying a large sack. A Quinn sized sack. Edilio suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. He barely felt the sharp pokes as the rest of the natives forced him to the fire pit. Two kids, both younger than him, pushed the Honduran down into a seated position…and right next to a bleached skeleton. Edilio fought back a scream and jumped several feet into the air. All around the fire site was pieces of bones and old skulls. Edilio tried to run but the same two Indians who carried the sack grabbed him around the upper arms. They held him firmly in place as Edilio twisted in vain and tried to escape. Exhausted, the boy collapsed and stared blankly at his 'bare boned' neighbor. One girl lit the empty pit before him and it suddenly burst into crackling flames. Edilio scooted as far as he could to escape the heat wave without drawing too much attention to himself. As if by magic, the chief was standing nobly in front of the fire holding something shaggy and matted. The bile that was already in his throat rose up violently and Edilio was sick right next to the skeleton. The thing the chief held looked just like the messy patch of hair that had resided on Quinn's head until they were attacked by these forest people. Edilio shook slightly and fought off another wave of nausea.

"Degarobia!" Cried the chief in a very triumphant voice. He shook his prize in the air and without warning, threw it into the fire. The fire suddenly exploded into a green flash of flames which caused Edilio to shout in alarm.

"Degarobia!" chanted back the Indians. Edilio noted that several of them were covered in black veils. He shuddered, not even wanting to think about what _that_meant. The chanting grew louder until the captive was positive either his ears or his throat would burst open. The chief cut his hand through the air and the chants dried up automatically. Everyone watched him with respectful eyes and even Edilio was curious to see what would happen next. The chief passed his hands over the fire and suddenly it burned an unnatural red. Reverent 'oohhs' came from the gathered tribe of outcasts. The skin on Edilio's neck prickled and he smelt an odd odor come from the fire that caused his eyes to water. The fire color faded from red to a sunset pink and loud screams sounded around Edilio, causing the boy to wince. The chief stared at the flame with wide eyes and made a weird and complicated gesture to protect himself. The others followed their chief and all eyes were suddenly on Edilio.

"Degarobia!" shouted the chief again, pointing happily at their prisoner. Edilio stared back with wide eyes. All around him, the other Indians feel to their knees and bowed very ostentatiously. Edilio wasn't sure whether to be more terrified or remotely honored. The same young girl who stared the fire scampered to Edilio's side. She ducked her head clumsily and offered forward a bowl of some type of stew. Edilio took it awkwardly and nodded stiffly at the girl. She giggled and tripped away. The chief looked expectantly at Edilio and motioned for him to eat it. The Honduran breathed deeply and took a big swig of the hot liquid. He almost choked on the salty broth. It was thin and flavorless except for an odd aftertaste. With the chief still watching him expectantly, he decided to try the chunks of meat. They were pale and squishy and smelled almost like a salty fish. Edilio's blood ran cold. It almost looked like boiled flesh. He closed his eyes and took a bite before throwing the bowl down in disgust. Similar to how it looked, the meat was salty and rubbery. Edilio's lunch threatened to come back up and he was barely able to hold onto this time. The people cheered again and pulled Edilio to his feet. The strongest of the kids grabbed his arms and pushed his back towards the fire. Edilio dug his heels into the dry ground. It seemed like they wanted to _push him into the fire_. He fought back but the flames were growing closer.

"Freter yu Degarobia!" The chief was screaming. Suddenly drums were pounding everywhere and soon Edilio couldn't tell his thundering heartbeat apart from the ceremonial booming. Edilio was just about to lose hope when a loud keening came from the woods. The outcasts threw their hands up into the air and fled, screaming, from the fire pit. Edilio took their escape as a chance for his breakout. He ran as fast as he could from the village and didn't look back.

Despite what had happened that afternoon, Edilio was now grateful for Quinn's advice on what to wear. Whatever was giving the people of the FAYZ light had sunk, leaving Edilio in a dark, unfamiliar, and eerie forest. Needless to say, Edilio Escobar was _not _a happy camper. At least he was warm in his escape from the heathens that had captured him and Quinn. Edilio paused and felt a weird sadness gnaw in his heart. Usually the Honduran would have been ecstatic for that fact that he wouldn't ever have to hear the fisherman's horrid jokes on his culture, but somehow the Honduran knew he was going to miss the guy. He sighed, kept going, and prayed in his heart that he'd be through this ordeal soon enough. He couldn't believe his eyes when right in front of him was the trail he and Quinn had used many hours ago. Edilio practically sprinted down his path for freedom and almost started to bawl when he saw the vehicle he took parked exactly where he had left it. He vaulted into the car and almost lost it when he couldn't find the keys. He searched for a full five minutes before spying them tossed over into the passenger seat. Edilio started up the vehicle and kissed the steering wheel when it started up. Barely able to contain shrieks of glee, Edilio drove as fast as he could back to Perdido Beach.

As fate would have it, the vehicle ran out of gas the moment Edilio crossed into the Perdido Beach. He jumped out of the car and ran as fast as he could to the City Hall, where he was hoping Sam would be. He was greatly relieved to see the lights in Sam's office on. Edilio burst through the heavy doors of the building and sprinted up the stairs that led to Sam's door. Not even bothering to knock, Edilio forced himself into the office and met the wide eyes of Sam.

"Er… Edilio. Um, nice to see you back," Sam said slowly, slightly unsure of what else to say. The soldier's normally cool attitude was frazzled and Edilio's eyes where much too large to be normal.

The Honduran nodded vigorously. "Sam, you wouldn't believe what I've been through this day. Y'know how you sent me and Quinn on that trip to get something for Thanksgiving?"

Sam nodded politely. "Oh, yeah. How'd that go? I was told it went rather well."

Edilio's left eye twitched. "By who?" he exploded incredulously. "Quinn and I were attacked by these forest people and they shot him with an arrow and then they brought me to their camp and made me watch this thing where the fire kept changing colors and then they made me eat this food that was really weird and then they tried to throw me in the fire! I barely escaped and then I had to wander the forests before finding the way out!" He rattled off all in one breath. Sam stared at him and Edilio continued. "They cut off Quinn's head and there were skeletons and _I ate Quinn_!"

Sam raised an eyebrow and turned to the person beside him. "You seemed to have forgotten to mention all the adventures you had this afternoon, Quinn."

The other person smiled coolly. "I'm sure Edilio is just trying to pull your leg. There are no 'forest people' in the Stefano Rey National Park." Edilio stared disbelievingly at the boy in front of him as if he had risen from the grave.

"But… but I _ate_you!" Edilio was trying to reason.

Quinn turned back to Sam. "Poor thing," he said with a sad smile. "Probably hallucinating from the heat. It _was_ pretty hot and the guy was wearing wool sweatpants. What can you expect?"

Sam still looked suspicious but did not say anything else. Instead he decided to try to change the subject. "So, um, Edilio. Quinn here was suggesting we do something for Thanksgiving. Like a pageant, right?" He glanced over at his best friend.

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, brah. Y'know, like a 'First Thanksgiving' thing with the Pilgrims and the Indians. Maybe we can change the story up a bit."

"That would be fun," Sam mused slowly. "I think it would be nice. It'd really cheer up the citizens with this whole battle anniversary coming up. Pick a few people and get started on it."

Quinn grinned. "I just think I need a few of my fishers and that'll be enough." He stood up to go but stopped to face Edilio. The Honduran looked up with a rather worn out expression on his face. "Ftyeh gi Degarobia!" he said with a malicious smirk and bowed at Edilio. The sheriff groaned loudly and buried his hands in his face.

Sam blinked, again completely lost on what was going on. He sighed and shook his head. Whatever the two did was beyond him. He just prayed he wouldn't ever get caught in the crossfire.

* * *

_Spending time and being locked away in house certainly gave the young fisher time to think. Now that he thought about it, there really was no such thing as a Chupacabra and Edilio had not been eaten by the monster. The only victim of that night had been Quinn's dignity. The boy gritted his teeth and vowed to get revenge. He pondered on the ways he could do this. As much as the boy loathed to admit, Edilio was braver than he and least likely to be freaked out by primitive growling and strobe lights. Quinn thought for a long while on what to do when it came to him. A plan of pure genius. Edilio pulled certain things from his culture, why couldn't Quinn? And with Thanksgiving fast approaching, what seemed better than using America's first meal of thanks with the Indians? More time went by with Quinn working out his plan in his mind. He finally had a loose idea of what he wanted planned out. All he needed was the pieces to fall into place. _

_The first thing Quinn needed was an excuse to take Edilio somewhere and the place to take him. He was in the library reading about Indians and the Pilgrims when he spotted an old map of Southern California. He found Stefano Rey National Park—no one really knew what it held; a perfect place for a lost tribe of outcasts. Next he asked Sam if he could take a few people to find some game for their Thanksgiving banquet. Along with getting permission, Quinn also received a gold nugget of information: Edilio was highly seasick. Around that, Quinn planned the water part of his 'adventure'. Now he needed a canoe._

_He got his canoes soon enough. Rooting through some old couple's basement, he found two plastic canoes that were perfect. He was even able to us his seamanship skills to weight one of the canoes heavier on one side so Edilio would be as uncomfortable as possible. Quinn smirked to himself. Every little thing helped._

_Getting the people to help was a bit harder. Luckily he had won over a few of his crewmen in the idea of 'tormenting the sheriff' and enlisted them for help in the revenge plan. He let them off their fishing duties if they were willing to practice their archery and savage war cries instead. Watching their progress, Quinn picked one of the kids to be the chief and from their plan progressed. _

_It was the chief who suggested they carry on further with the plan than just the waterfront attack. When this kid told Quinn of his further plan, the head fisher was honestly scared for Edilio's mental health. With triumphant high fives, the two continued to search for more supplies to make their plan the most epic thing ever concocted. _

* * *

_"So, which teacher had the skeleton in her classroom?" Quinn asked in a quiet, reverent voice. He and a few others were going through the school looking for more pieces in their plan. Unlike the usual thieves who searched for food and batteries, they were looking for skeletons. _

"_Um, so__me teacher in the science wing," one kid suggested._

"_No dur!" another shouted. "My English teacher had a skeleton too," he snapped sarcastically._

"_Enough!" hissed Quinn. "Let's just go down the science hall and check each classroom." The kids nodded and that was what they did. A grand total of what the fishers accumulated was five and a half skeletons and some chemicals which a kid swore would cause fire to change colors. Quinn warily slipped the packets of power into his pocket and continued with the plan._

_

* * *

_

_Now that his plan was about to unfurl, Quinn was unsure if it would work. So much of it depended on Edilio to be terrified and not realize everything was set up. He supposed Edilio had had similar thoughts running through his head on Halloween night. Still, the fisher was shocked when Edilio actually arrived in the heavy work clothes he suggested the sheriff to bring. One of the main concerns was Edilio's gun which could put a swift end to the entire plan. Quinn could hardly believe his luck when Edilio had subconsciously left his hoodie and in turn, leaving his gun which was in the pocket. Even the boat trip had gone swimmingly well. Edilio was clearly having problems with his canoe but it didn't stop him from following Quinn. From the tipping canoe to the large feathers Quinn had laid out on the side of the river, Edilio was too distracted to notice him signaling to the trees. _

The at_tack scene went perfectly as well. Again, Quinn was worried that his intended victim would realize it was all staged. But apparently the very well shot arrows convinced Edilio this was real. A few of the arrows actually made Quinn a little nervous—especially the one right by Edilio's hand—but that was nothing compared to what Edilio was feeling. Quinn almost burst into laughter at the wild expression on the Honduran's face but somehow managed to compose himself just in time. He used his brilliant acting skills that rivaled Edilio's and managed to perfect a beautiful swan dive off of his canoe. While Edilio was panicking, Quinn swam out and prepared for the next part of his plan. Soon the 'Chief' came with a terrified Edilio and Quinn could hardly believe how well the entire thing was going. Quinn threw a black shroud over himself and sat right next to the unaware prisoner. _

_The actual fire part was what Quinn thought was the greatest. They arranged the bones and skeletons neatly around the fire and forced Edilio to sit right beside them. Quinn was about to bust a gut at the Honduran's many facial expressions. With the 'scalp', Quinn had grown his hair long and kept it shaggy so it had the consistency of animal fur. Using a rotting animal carcass similar to a way Edilio did, Quinn had the perfect copy-cat of his hair. He soaked the hair in a solution made of one of the chemicals they looted and Chief tossed it in the fire. Needless to say, both parties were shocked to see the fire turn green. Ever so sneakily, Chief would drop handfuls at a time of various chemicals and 'ahh' with the rest of them as the flames changed. For the meal, Quinn had to find something that looked and probably tasted like human flesh. Having never actually tasted a person before, Quinn used the closest thing possible to what he thought could pass—a Duck bat. Named in honor of the first one to discover them, the swimming blue bats had a pale meat and tasted rather plain. Quinn hoped Edilio had never had human before either and wouldn't know the difference. Seeing the boy's expression as he choked down the soup made Quinn suppress mad giggles. After the lovely 'throw Edilio into the magic fire scene', Quinn signaled for another kid to start screaming. This allowed for the Honduran to escape and Quinn to finish the plan._

_While Edilio was crashing through the forest only a few hundred feet away, Quinn hid the keys, siphoned some gas, and marked the path easier for Edilio. The fisher then went back down the Achatz River, packed up shop, and took a motorboat back to the marina. There he went to see Sam and suggested the Thanksgiving pageant. When Edilio walked in, looking like death warmed over, Quinn could barely contain himself. He knew he would have to explain later to Sam, but for the mean time, he savored the Honduran's misery. _

_

* * *

_**Gah! Do you know how annoying it is that 'Edilio' is not a word in the Fanfiction Dictionary? That was perhaps the longest one-shot in history. Not as clever as the first one but hopefully just as enjoyable.  
Like it? Hate it? Want to cut it and set it on fire? I would really appreciate feedback. Also, thank you so much for reading!**

**Happy Thanksgiving!**


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